Blackmail in Hammersmith  Part Two
by ladywildcow
Summary: SLASH: Moriarty/Sherlock. The second part of this Slashockian story. John has been taken hostage. Moriarty's demands are very clear. SMUT.


**BLACKMAIL IN HAMMERSMITH – PART TWO BY LWC.**

**SLASH: MORIARTY/SHERLOCK: This is the second part to Blackmail in Hammersmith. Moriarty has taken John hostage. His demands become very clear. Smut. Enjoy my fellow Slashockians. Please review. Cheers, LWC.x**

**(Naturally, I do not own these characters…)**

Moriarty slowly unlocked the door to Anita's bedroom and held it open. He turned to look behind him and saw Sherlock standing there – aloof - one hand holding a cup of tea and the other thrust deeply into his coat pockets. His eyes fixed on the door with an air of utter indifference.

Moriarty smirked and gestured for him to walk through. Sherlock smirked back and contemptuously swept passed Moriarty and into the waitress' room. It was cluttered - underwear on the floor, hairdryer and magazines next to a mirror. The curtains were still drawn and the room was in the half light.

Sherlock stood in the middle of the room and didn't turn around to watch Moriarty close the door.

Moriarty slowly walked past him and sat down on the bed. He then lay down, crossed his feet and put one hand behind his head.

"I'm loving that long superhero coat, "he said flatly. "So dramatic, sooo mysterious."

Sherlock turned to face him. He clenched his jaw, took a sip of tea and kept his other hand in his pocket.

"Hmmm…you wear anger well, my dear," Moriarty whispered. "I can feel your _barely_ contained rage from here."

Sherlock kept looking at Moriarty. His face was still and bathed in the half light – his dark hair framing his face. Moriarty raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"You're just….dying…to _stop _ me, aren't you?" he softly chuckled. "Just stop caring and it can all end."

Sherlock didn't reply nor move.

"You wear martyrdom even better, "Moriarty softly giggled. "The great Sherlock Holmes stoically accepting his fate to save his 'friend'. How noble." Moriarty wickedly smiled and put his other hand behind his head. He looked Sherlock up and down and inhaled deeply.

"Take off your clothes, " he said. "Slowly…" His smiled broadened and he took his baseball cap off and casually placed it down next to him.

Sherlock looked away with contempt.

"No, no, no" Moriarty said in his sing-song voice. "Keep looking at me, my dear," he whispered.

Sherlock slowly returned his gaze to Moriarty and haughtily put down his cup and began to take off his scarf,

"Slower…" Moriarty demanded and smiled. "Much, much slower."

Sherlock paused for a moment, gritted his teeth and slowly took off his scarf. He then slowly took off his coat and placed it on the end of the bed. He stood there in a white shirt and black trousers.

"Unbutton your shirt…"Moriarty whispered.

Sherlock inhaled deeply again and starting at the top began to slowly unbutton his shirt.

"Stop…." Moriarty said when Sherlock had reached the last button. Sherlock stood still and just looked at Moriarty, who had a look of utter wickedness and amusement across his face.

"Hmmm….roll up your sleeves..very slowly," Moriarty whispered. Sherlock paused. He cleared his throat slightly and unbuttoned his left sleeve and rolled it up to just below the elbow and then repeated the process on the other side, all the time keeping eye contact with Moriarty.

Moriarty smiled. "Take off everything else," he commanded.

Sherlock looked down for a moment towards his shoes.

"No looking away, my dear," Moriarty whispered. "Or daddy will get cross."

Sherlock removed his shoes, socks and when he came to trousers, he very slowly lowered and stepped out of them. He stood still for a second. Moriarty raised an eyebrow,

"No stopping," Moriarty said quietly.

Sherlock took in a short sharp breath through his nose and pulled down the soft material, his last physical barrier, and kicked them away.

Moriarty giggled. "Well, well, well…look at you," Moriarty said, sitting up and staring at Sherlock.

"What a big, hard cock you have, my dear," Moriarty smiled. "No…don't tell me…it's not for me…thinking of someone else…such a liar."

"Do you know what I'm thinking?" Moriarty asked,

"It doesn't take a genius to work it out, Moriarty," Sherlock whispered.

"oh no..no, no. no. I'm thinking how I want you dressed when I begin fucking you."

Moriarty looked Sherlock up and down. "Hmmm,…..that coat. I want the coat. Shirt off, coat on….now".

Sherlock slowly took his shirt off, so he was now standing at the end of the bed fully naked. He reached down and picked up his coat and put it on.

"Let it hang open," Moriarty said.

Sherlock opened his coat and looked forward at Moriarty. Moriarty's eyes lowered to Sherlock's cock and raised his eyes back up to Sherlock's eyes.

"Hmmm…." Moriarty said softly as she looked at Sherlock standing in the half-light. He put his hand onto his groin and stroked his hard cock once. "Hmmm…" He said, looking Sherlock up and down lasciviously.

"Come here," Moriarty commanded, pointing to his lap. Sherlock turned to walk to the side of the bed.

"No….crawl up the bed and then… sit here," he whispered, patting his groin.

Sherlock paused. He took a slow breath and then, after a moment, he leaned forward onto the bed. He put his hands either side of Moriarty's legs and then placed his knees onto the bed. He slowly moved up towards Moriarty's lap and then sat over him. Moriarty placed his hands on Sherlock's naked hips.

"Alone at last, my dear, "Moriarty whispered and stopped grinning. His face became sterner and his eyes darkened. He ran his hands down Sherlock's thighs slowly and then back up to his hips. Sherlock shivered slightly.

Moriarty then placed his hands behind the back of his head once more and leaned back.

"Touch yourself," he said softly.

Sherlock paused. He cleared his throat and then very slowly placed his hand around his cock. Moriarty smiled again. "Now pleasure yourself for me."

Sherlock began with slow strokes as Moriarty looked on.

"Good," he whispered. "Very good. Now harder," he commanded.

Sherlock began to build up a stronger rhythm and a small moan escaped from the back of his throat.

"Feels good, doesn't it? To be pleasuring yourself for daddy, "Moriarty said and then followed on with: "Stop."

Sherlock stopped. Moriarty leaned forward and with his thumb, touched the tip of Sherlock's hard cock and removed some pre-cum.

"Tongue," he said. Sherlock gave Moriarty an angry look. He clenched his fists and…. opened his mouth. He paused again and then….pushed out his tongue. Moriarty slowly put his thumb on his tongue and said: "Lick."

Sherlock did nothing. Moriarty continued holding out his thumb.

Sherlock licked. Moriarty wickedly chuckled then dropped his smile.

"Kiss me," he commanded.

Sherlock moved forward and leaned over Moriarty, his hands either side of his head and his chest raised above Moriarty's body. He lowered his head until his lips were barely touching Moriarty's. Moriarty gripped the back of Sherlock's dark hair and pulled him down aggressively onto him, kissing him brutally - his tongue trying to dominate Sherlock's mouth. He pulled away, leaving Sherlock panting, trying to get his breath..

Moriarty lowered his hand down Sherlock's back, resting his palm at the base of his spine. The tips of his fingers moved lower and gently brushed up and down very, very softly. Suddenly, Sherlock gasped, his mouth open as Moriarty pushed the tip of his finger inside.

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment.

"You so want this," Moriarty whispered. "You're aching for me to fuck you."

"I told you, "Sherlock whispered. "I'm not thinking about you."

Moriarty pulled his hand away and glared at Sherlock. "Liar."

Sherlock shook his head. Moriarty leaned forward and licked Sherlock's neck up to his whisper and whispered. "An ordinary human couldn't turn you on."

Sherlock gave an involuntary moan and Moriarty's warm breath touched his ear. "I know you. I know _everything_ about you."

"Intelligence, challenge, danger – you need these things. You need them like a drug and there is no-one on this planet but me who can give them to you. No one."

Moriarty, flipped Sherlock onto his back and pushed his legs apart. Sherlock gasped hard as Moriarty leaned forward, raising Sherlock's knees.

"Say you're mine," Moriarty whispered.

Sherlock slowly and with as little emotion as he could summon said: "I'm yours."

"Say you're mine." Moriarty repeated.

"I'm yours," he repeated emotionlessly.

Moriarty pushed his cock towards Sherlock and pressed it up against him.

Moriarty slowly penetrated him and both men moaned. He pushed right up to the base of his cock and held it there.

"Do you want me to do that again, my dear?" Moriarty whispered. "Tell me,"

Sherlock's head was right back and his eyes closed. He tried to say something but nothing happened.

"Tell me," Moriarty whispered and he slowly pulled his cock back,

"….Again," Sherlock whispered.

Moriarty smiled:

SLAM

"Uh," Sherlock groaned.

SLAM

Sherlock gripped the side of the bed and groaned louder.

SLAM

Sherlock threw his head back and hit the bed with a clenched fist.

"That's it…let is all out," Moriarty whispered and he thrust harder and harder. Sherlock panted harder and harder. Pleasure and pain pulsed through him.

"You're going to cum and cum so fucking hard, my dear," Moriarty panted as he started to slam into Sherlock again and again and again

Sherlock was tossing his head from side to side. Moriarty was slamming into Sherlock harder and harder. His rhythm getting faster and frenzied.

"…..sooooo fucking hard!" Moriarty growled.

He thrust deeper and harder, bodies slamming together.

SLAM

Sherlock, his teeth clenched and eyes closed, getting closer and closer

SLAM

Closer and then…

UHH! Sherlock panted, thrust, threw his head back and began to yell

….as he came….hard

UHHHH!

"Cum…..Good boy," Moriarty whispered and continued thrusting harder and harder until he began to lose control himself…cumming so, so - hard. His eyes rolled upwards, his heart pounding and he collapsed onto Sherlock The two men lay there - sweaty, panting and delirious – their senses swimming.

Slowly, they both calmed their breathing. Sherlock was the first to speak:

"Release, John," he whispered.

Moriarty smiled and turned onto his back, his head on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Not today, my dear," he whispered back. "Maybe tomorrow."

The end….


End file.
